Slavery Games Ch 05 Sold

Here is the following of Bridgett's article about the bet that saw her become a slave.

*****

The newspaper editor was there next to me. I was babbling a little bit.

"Yes, the newspaper bought you. I wanted you to write the end of your series of articles," he said. I was speechless at first, then I reacted. "Can you take me to the newspaper?"

"In this outfit, you would make a sensation?"

"I... I have nothing left."

"Didn't you ever send me that?" I was looking at that paper he gave me. I was seeing it for the first time. I had given all my belongings to the newspaper a week ago. My signature was not very well forged. Ben's, on the other hand, was correct.

"Did you make a fake?"

"No, not me."

"Alejandra?" I realized how much I owed her, and I was ashamed of myself for committing to this stupid bet.

"Yes. She was sold to a birthing clinic to work as a midwife." I was relieved to hear she would be able to work at a 'normal' job rather than as a sex slave.

"You couldn't..."

"It was too expensive, but I was able to contact common friends in time. You will go there, to do an article on how free people and slaves work together."

"And Brittany?"

"Her father bought her."

"If I understand correctly, I'm working for the newspaper again?"

"You belong to the newspaper. It must make its investment profitable." If it was a joke, he didn't make me laugh. But I would get my clothes from when I went to SGL, my papers, my keys, from the back of his car and he would drop me off in front of my apartment. I was on my way home relieved. I decided to take a bath and then go to bed. I had a thought for Alejandra who had been smarter than I had.

The next morning, I realized that my car, finally the one the newspaper was making available to me, now was in front of SGL, so I decided to take the bus to the newspaper.

Finding an outfit that would go with the collar was not very easy, but in the end, I was satisfied and glad that this slavery story turned out that way. I took a light step into the street to the bus ticket machine to buy a one-way ticket book. For a moment I wondered if slaves were not entitled to a reduced rate. But soon enough I was disappointed:

"Card invalidated," the machine declared to me.

"Normally slaves don't have credit cards," a lady told me. I felt uncomfortable realizing that my status was obvious due to the collar. I was looking at her.

"Slaves have no bank account. You've been a slave how long?" she asked.

"Since yesterday... I have to go to work..." I said.

"You have to pay in cash, or I'll give you a ticket," a man said. I was relieved and went to thank him.

"Thank me another way, instead," he waved at me and showed me his fly.

"Well, I..." I was trying to get out of this situation...

"And you don't obey a free person?" the woman said to me. I suddenly realized that, as a slave, I had to obey if I wanted to avoid public punishment. So I bowed down, knelt before the man and did it. For a bus ticket, I had to suck him and swallow his seed. When I got up, my stockings were ruined. My life as a slave would not be as easy as I thought if every time I interact with free people, I would have to obey them. The bus ride was difficult, I couldn't digest the sperm I had just swallowed. Besides, my pantyhose were destroyed when I had to get on my knees. What was going to happen when I arrived at the newspaper? Everyone could ask me what they wanted. I burst into tears. I didn't realize then what other slaves lives were really like.

Once at the newspaper, I would go to Ben's office and tell him about my journey.

"Yes, your accounts have been closed and the content has been put in the newspaper," Ben told me more seriously. He was speaking of my savings, my retirement savings.

"What about my salary?"

"You belong to the newspaper. Eventually, you could work elsewhere and the newspaper would receive money." It took me a while to realize. Yet when I was receiving Alejandra's salary it didn't shock me so much.

"Okay, Bridgett, I understand, but you can use your car."

"I left it at SGL."

"But no, they brought it in front of the newspaper. Come on, pull yourself together, and try to find out who bought slaves, and try to question them. You're going to do an article on SGL's losers."

Before I got in my car, I called SGL and was told that the list of the latest sales would be available to me. So I took my car and went back to that place. When I arrived I had goosebumps. I was asked to wait until somebody called for me.

"I was wondering if it would be you!" said the hairdresser. "Come on, I've prepared a file for you." Indeed, a clutch bag was placed on the table of the room in which we had just arrived.

"It's going to be okay. You think you can to be both a reporter and a slave?" she asked.

"I think so..." Actually I didn't know.

"I admire you, you have courage. I prefer to hide here. Outside too many people abuse us. Say it in your..." She was interrupted by Patrick's entry

"I didn't think I'd see you anymore. Your outfit is cute, but it's not a slave's one. Undress!" The other slave waved at me to obey, and I did, finding myself naked again in front of him.

"Lie down on the table." I was getting on the table. So was he. I was terrified but excited too. I thought that this time I wasn't going to be used for the sole pleasure of a free man. He made me lie down, then he came to ride on me. I was surprised at first, but soon enough his intentions were clear. He slipped his sex between my breasts. I had never done that before. He squeezed my breasts. Then he stirred back and forth. I was amused to see the sex tip appear and disappear between my globes. The feeling on my chest was not unpleasant. I looked up and held out my tongue to manage to touch the tip of his love stick. The position amused me, and I played it. Touching the tip with my tongue was not so easy, because I had to lift my head up. Apparently, he liked it too, and he exploded right in my face. When he came down from the table I had his seed on my breasts and face. I was disgusting. And I guessed I'd have to leave soon. He left the room.

The slave took my hand and led me into the bathroom.

"Take a shower, you'll get better after" she was shaking her butt.

"Thank you"

"Can I? Wash you?"

I looked at her and I accepted. I adjusted the water temperature. I took a step, she turned around and left her dress drop to the floor. She turned her back to me, dropped her panties and showed me her perfectly waxed buttocks. Then she came back to me. She kissed me on the mouth, rubbing her breasts against mine. She put soap on her skin, then came to me and rubbed herself against me.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time," she said. Thank you for letting me do this."

"What's your name?"

"Carmen," she told me when she came to suckle my breasts. Then her fingers touched my sex. She hurt me, pulling my womanhood like never before. By the time I reacted, an unexpected orgasm struck me. I took her in my arms and stroked her chest, then I smoothed my fingers.

"Squeeze my clitoris between two fingers while slapping it sharply," she told me. It took me three tries!

"It's a trick," she laughed as she came out of the still sloping shower of that flash orgasm.

When I left, it seemed to me that she had added something to the files.

A while later I was at the newspaper reading the files. I did indeed have the addresses of the different buyers. But how to go and see them without being abused every time?

I was looking at the second file. It was something else: photos, accounting documents. I realized that Carmen had asked me to come and see her after my crucifixion twice. She had a file for me. But in the euphoria of my victory, I didn't do it the first time. It was becoming late.

"Bridgett, I'm sorry about what's happening to you," Louis told me before he left.

"Do you want to take me before you leave?" I asked him. He had the right to do so.

"No, no, actually, I've wanted to invite you for a long time, but I didn't dare. Would you like to have dinner with me?" I was unfair to him.

"Before I would have refused at least once, and I would have kept you waiting before spending the night with you. Now it's easier. I can't say no anymore. But it is with pleasure that I accept."

He had found an original and friendly restaurant. In his company, I was safe and I could relax. After the meal, he offered me a ride home. I was a little disappointed that he didn't ask me to come to his house. I realized that my answer must have made him uncomfortable.

"You don't want to go up?" I insisted one last time as we arrived. He was really confused. I had to insist again that he come home.

"I didn't want you to think I would do it just for that..." he answered as he went with me.

"If it was, you would have asked me to do it at the paper. And for once I want to do it with someone who feels something for me," I reassured him by rubbing up against him. He seemed to like it, because he kept playing this game, and let me undress him. All he had left was an undergarment. I exchanged roles, and took off my clothes in turn. I was a little disappointed with the bump in his crotch. Was he hard, and then I would be disappointed or wasn't I exciting him?

And then, I remembered that Carmen gave me an emergency pill: "I'm going to the bathroom", I said to take my periods into account. A sanitary tampon later I came back to him.

I felt uncomfortable with him, indeed he wasn't hard. I wasn't panicking, and I tried a blowjob. No effect. I was frustrated. What was he thinking? He must have thought I was a nymphomaniac or a horny bitch. He was also frustrated, I felt it.

"I'm sorry,"

"So am I."

"I need your protection. As a slave, I no longer have any rights," I fell on the bed, crying. He snuggled up against me.

"I'll be there if you want." It made my heart warm, and we stayed together like that for an hour or two. Then he moved like he was uneasy. I appreciated his warmth. This naughty evening would finally be a big hug. But there against my buttock, I felt something very hot, and a little hard! I bit my lip and lowered my hand. It was a generous size. I wrapped it with my fingers. He moaned. I was kissing him. I was slipping in to give him a blowjob.

"I don't want to force you."

"Do I look like I'm being forced?" He was uncomfortable. I was afraid he would lose his erection again.

"You don't prefer something more reciprocal?" he proposed. I smile at him.

"I have my periods. But, you can go around back?" I suggested.

"Doggy style?"

"No, really behind," his eyes opened, his sex swelled. I was sure he liked the idea.

"But it's going to hurt you!"

"Less than when it's the guards on the day of the crucifixion."

"My god!"

"My devil," I responded in a piecemeal way. He was laughing. While I was playing with his sex, he would brush my anus with lubricant, then I came to sit on him. I was thinking about the cross. But this time I was in control. I was putting my weight on his stick. I felt it rearing up, and gradually opening up to me. I was moving from right to left to help.

I felt myself opening up little by little to make room for him. When the head came inside me, I was screaming. I made a pause until I got used to it. Then I pressed again, and he entered, he slips into me. I let him do the work and he was gentle but so excited. He blew. I thought he liked it, and so did I. I felt it wriggling. I accelerated. I was losing my senses. He grunted. He grunted a lot. Eventually, he slipped better, he had filled my bowels. I sank on him and I too was coming. And I'd sneak up on him.

Later I would take over my file while he was asleep. I was writing down the content. I was looking on the Internet. I was thinking of those who are my slave brothers and sisters. Then I took the other file. And then I didn't understand any more.

This file was different. It was bank statements, photos.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. They slipped this into my documents at SGL."

"You want me to look at the account statements I'm used to, here look it's a bank in the Bahamas." He was asking me, but he was already taking the file from me.

"And the picture, look, it's a rope with orange streaks."

"Yes, and there are needles like the ones I had in my wrist," I said. My heart was tightening. What the hell was that?

"Do you have pictures of the crucified ones?"

"No, but on the Internet, we will find that."

The next day I decided to meet Andrew and the gay couple who bought him. On the phone they were charming and I decided to go alone and let Louis do his research on the accounts.

"Hello, I'm sorry, I wanted to do a survey on slaves."

"Yes, we read your articles. We were very touched by the case of Stephanie, and the other abused slaves, but you know, some Masters take care of their slaves," one of them told me.

"For example, Andrew was not gay. Did you have him trained?"

"We discussed it with him. As long as he behaves well, we don't, but if he tries something, we will. We do not agree with the techniques used by these organizations. In fact, we would like to be an example of ethical slavery," the other told me.

"Andrew wasn't gay when you bought him," I objected.

"We offered him a chance to try for a month. We explained to him what we wanted, and why we had bought him. If he didn't agree, we would claim to get our money back. He would be sold once again. For the moment he seemed happy to stay with us" they looked into each other's eyes.

"In addition, we share him on this Internet platform, you know Air-Slav. And so every week he spends some time with a mistress who rents him to us. He gets some heterosexuality like that," the second added.

Andrew came and knelt when he saw us.

"Hello, Mrs Bridgett,"

"But no, she's a slave too. How silly he is," laughed one of the masters.

"We make him wear this black latex outfit. It's beautiful on his skin, isn't it? But he can't take it off. Even to urinate he must ask us,"

Indeed, he wore a latex suit. A zipper started from his belly button and went up to his back. On each side, there was a padlock. The material molded him and made all the muscles I had seen in his cell just before he was sold stand out beautifully. His sex also left a print in the latex.

"We're leaving you both alone, but no games, ok?"

Andrew would rather have stayed with this couple. In fact, they had bought a human sex toy, but they took care of it in their own way. Andrew seemed to be satisfied with it. He even blushed when he told me he didn't want to leave them. When I asked him about the outfit and the fact that it was closed, he laughed and told me that it gave him breaks. I had a thought for this couple; I had already tested Andrew's sex. They had made a good choice. My mouth watered when I left them, perhaps not only my mouth.

My next visit was for my slave, Alejandra. She worked as a midwife in a company near the hospital where she used to work. As I arrived, my heart tightened: The facility was more like a prison.

"Are you all right?" I asked her.

"Yes, I follow more pregnancies than childbirth, but I'm fine," she told me. I wasn't sure about that. Her eyes were avoiding me. Her tone wasn't the one she had before.

"Who are the people who are here? Are they difficult pregnancies?"

"No, not at all. They are slaves. There are only slaves, doctors, midwives, and patients." There was a tear in her eye. I was thinking of Ben's idea of an article on interactivity between free people and slaves.

"Pregnant slaves? It's strange, isn't it?" I asked. She looked at me. I felt she thought I was stupid or something like that. Obliviously there was something I did not understand. She took a break before replying.

"No, Bridgett. That is what we are doing here: It's a baby factory."

"I'm sorry?" I was not sure I heard what she said.

"We are regularly impregnated by customers or other slaves with interesting genetic properties. Then our pregnancies are monitored. And the children are sold." She said with a tear in her eye.

"But and you, you're here to monitor the pregnant slaves?"

She opened her gown to show me a chastity belt.

"Not yet, they're waiting for my ovulation day. I wore this so they are sure I would be desperate to cum. It also ensures they know who the father is."

"But aren't you here as a midwife?"

"Yes, that too."

I left her and returned to the newspaper. I was shocked by what I had seen.

"Louis, we must denounce what slavery is!"

"Bridgett, we need to talk about this, but so far I've been looking at SGL's accounts. I would like to meet Stephanie and Bill. Do you think it's possible?"

"Are you ready for a naughty night out?" His smile answered for him.

Half an hour later we were in the Dancing Pink Flamingo.

"The atmosphere is curious, isn't it?" Louis asked me. I felt comfortable in my short skirt. All the waitresses wore a collar like mine.

"What can I get you?" one of them asked us.

"A Pina-cola-da for me, and a whisky for him," I replied. We talked about this earlier.

"I'm sorry. I can't take order with alcohol for a slave. But perhaps, Sir wants both drinks?" asked the waitress in a curious voice.

"Yes, very well," replied Louis, visibly annoyed.

I was amused to see these very scantily dressed waitresses, and especially to see the naked dancers. All were slaves. Belonging to the club, they were staying here according to the information I had taken. As for the rules on alcohol not being sold to slaves, they had to be controlled.

The waitress gave us our drinks. She put mine being halfway between Louis and me. And all of a sudden as I was looking at her collar, I recognized the name engraved into it.

"Bill? you're Bill" The waitress looked at me, and in a deeper voice confirmed what I had guessed. But she was soon to dance, and she offered to receive us in her dressing room.

We were talking while observing the club. Many lonely men were accompanied by slaves. Did they all belong to the club? Louis suddenly asked me if I would like him to slide his hand between my legs. Some men did much more daring things. I simply replied that as a slave, I had no right to oppose it. He did not dare. I was amazed by his reaction. I liked him so much.

Bill's dance surprised us. At no time could we have guessed that she was a man. I was telling Louis how afraid Bill was of being feminized before he was sold.

Once it was finished, we would go backstage.

"Bill? No Betsy! Her dressing room is here, but she has a fan right now, so wait," we were told. The sounds coming from the dressing room were explicit. Bill must have liked this fan according to Louis.

A man came out of the dressing room, and Bill was still naked, he asked us for a minute before he opened us again. Condoms and bank notes confirmed what I thought. Bill was a prostitute. However, this allowed him to have cash I supposed, the only kind of money slaves can use.

"Do you know the Blue Bayou?" Louis asked immediately.

"It's the restaurant across the street from mine. At least from the one who was mine..."

"Did you had some news about it"

"I was the chief you know. For a restaurant losing its chief, it's beginning from zero again."

We left Bill/Betsy and Louis told me on the way out that the owner of this restaurant had paid $15,000 into an account related to Patrick Saint Andrew a few days before the show where Bill had lost. Bill's wrist rope had orange dots on it, but not the others. Strings like these can be seen in the pictures of Stephanie's feet or my wrist for my second crucifixion. It is the same string shown on the pictures given by Carmen.

"There were needles in the strings of my wrist, Alejandra saw them too," I confirmed.